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W hen Jarvis offered to drive Ollie to the hospital, the police stepped in to escort him instead. Ollie was led to a flashing police car and helped onto the back seat. It reminded him of the first time he’d ridden in one, after he’d calmly called them after stabbing his father to death.

They’d put cuffs on him that day, and although one of the officers darted a glance at his wrists, the other one shook his head.

Jarvis and Captain followed closely behind in what Ollie assumed was Jarvis’s car, and it became clear that the two officers who’d driven Ollie in weren’t going to leave his side. They tried to persuade Jarvis and Captain to wait outside the cubicle, but Captain point blank refused, telling them wherever Ollie went, he went too.

Ollie imagined it was the size of Captain that stopped them from protesting.

A doctor assessed his nose, tutting and murmuring until finally telling Ollie it was broken.

“Talk about stating the obvious,” Captain huffed.

Ollie frowned. “Is it that bad?”

“Haven’t you seen it?” the doctor asked, pulling on each drawer in the unit beside the bed until he found a mirror. He handed it over to Ollie, who recoiled at the sight of his face. His nose had doubled in size, purpling in the middle, and bruises were growing beneath his eyes. The doctor handed him an antiseptic wipe for the crusted blood on his chin and down his neck. It had stained Rory’s jacket, and he scrubbed the wipe over the ruined fabric, but it only seemed to make the problem worse.

“Don’t worry about that,” Jarvis said softly, taking the wipe.

“It’s Rory’s jacket.” Ollie swallowed. “Can you find out about him?”

He directed the question at the two officers, who shared a look.

The one with the permanent scowl answered. “We’ll look into the status of your friend in due course.”

He spoke in a tone that suggested he was absolutely not going to find out about Rory.

“He was in a fire,” Ollie blurted. “He’s a police officer too. Rory.”

The scowling officer didn’t react, but the other one’s eyebrows shot up his head. Before he could say anything, Jarvis did.

“I’ll go.” He squeezed Captain’s arm, gave Ollie a small smile, then left.

The doctor went back to examining Ollie. “It’s hard to tell if the break has affected the shape. We need to reassess when the swelling goes down. And if it needs correction, I’ll need to manipulate it back into position.”

“Manipulate? How?” Ollie asked.

The doctor held up both his thumbs and twitched them. “With these. Don’t worry, a general anaesthetic will be involved. Are you in any pain?”

Ollie frowned. “It just feels tight…achy.”

“I’ll strap you up, get you some paracetamol and some ice.”

The scowling officer cleared his throat as he took a step closer to the bed. His eyes darted to Ollie’s wrist again, making Captain bristle.

“Will he need to stay the night?” the officer asked.

The doctor’s brow furrowed. “No. But I will need space to fix him up without you breathing down mine or Ollie’s neck.”

“He’s involved in an active police investigation. We need to take his statement while it’s still fresh in his mind.”

“I understand that,” the doctor said tightly. “But I need to treat my patient. Investigation or not, his health comes first.”

The officer retreated a step. His colleague pulled him further away and muttered into his ear. Their hushed conversation went back and forth until the grumpy officer left the cubicle.

“You said Rory,” the remaining officer said. His eyebrows dipped in concentration. “Rory Matterson?”

“No.” Ollie shook his head. “Rory Price.”

“Matterson,” Captain corrected. “It’s Matterson.”

Ollie scrunched his brow. “Oh, right.”

Price had been Rory’s cover name inside.

“Are you sure you’re not confused?” the doctor asked.

“Not any more than usual.”

Jarvis returned, heaving for breath. “He’s awake.” His eyes were bright. “He’s got a mask on, and Sebastian said he keeps chucking up his lungs when he coughs, but he’s awake.”

Ollie slipped down from the bed. “I need to see him.”

Both the doctor and Captain put a stop to his escape attempt, encouraging him back onto the bed.

The remaining officer spoke up. “Once the doctor straps up your nose, I’ll accompany you to see him.”

Ollie snorted. “So you’re the good cop?”

The officer smiled. “Depends what side of the bed I get out on.” He jutted his chin towards the doctor, who resumed prodding Ollie’s nose and complaining about the swelling.

Ollie didn’t care, though. All that mattered in that moment was Rory being okay.

Ollie froze in the doorway of Rory’s room, gut sinking at the sight of his friend on the bed. The edge of Rory’s face was grey where someone had wiped away the soot that had coloured his skin, but his cheeks, chin and forehead were flushed a vibrant pink. His eyes were closed, and he clutched the sheet as he sat propped up on the bed. The mask over his mouth clouded up with each breath he took. And he was taking them fast, quick little pants while his face was screwed up with discomfort.

“Shit, Ollie!” Sebastian said, getting to his feet. “You’re hurt?”

Ollie realised then that Sebastian and Rory didn’t know what had happened, didn’t know who had set their house on fire or why.

Rory’s eyes snapped open at Sebastian’s shout. He yanked down his mask, growing more and more alarmed by Ollie stood frozen in the doorway. Captain and Jarvis were there too and the police officer, who pushed them inside, then shut the door behind them.

“What have you done to yourself?” the officer asked, eyeing Rory.

Rory’s gaze shifted to him. “Harrison? What the hell are you… What the hell is going on?”

“I’m sorry,” Ollie blurted, stepping forward. “It’s my fault you’re in that bed.”

“You are not to blame for the actions of others,” Jarvis said.

Ollie slumped. “He was trying to kill me, though, not Rory.”

“Who was?” Sebastian demanded. “Who was trying to kill you?”

“Pichard,” Ollie whispered.

“Pichard?” Sebastian pinched the top of his nose. “The prison doctor?”

Ollie nodded.

Rory struggled to sit up straight. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

His outburst triggered a coughing fit that made the machine he was attached to scream and flash. Sebastian was all over him, but instead of a sympathetic expression, he looked pissed, shaking with anger.

“Keep that damn mask on,” he growled.

Rory stuck out his bottom lip. “Stop snapping.”

“I’m snapping because you keep taking it off.”

“No one can understand what I’m saying with it on.”

“Well, maybe,” Sebastian said through his teeth, “you should stop talking, start listening, and lie there and breathe.”

He took the mask from Rory’s limp hand and held it over his mouth.

“Please,” Sebastian murmured, exasperated. “If not for yourself, then for me.”

Rory sank into his pillow, and instead of nodding, he replied to Sebastian with a slow blink.

“Thank you,” Sebastian breathed, adjusting the straps around Rory’s ears for the mask to sit more comfortably. “You need to do what the doctor says.”

Rory reached up to squeeze his hand, then he looked to Ollie, the desperate plea in his eyes for information obvious.

“It’s a long story,” Ollie whispered. “But Pichard wanted to kill me to hurt Teddy.” He pulled at the jacket he was still wearing. “He must’ve thought you were the one who left with Sebastian and that I was still inside the house. He set fire to it with you inside.”

“Thank God he didn’t get round the back,” Sebastian mumbled. He’d laced his fingers with Rory’s. “I still would’ve gone in there, though. I would’ve gone in there to save you no matter what.”

Rory’s brow twitched. His eyes shone, and he mouthed ‘I know’ beneath the mask.

“I was about to call a taxi, but then Captain called me.” Ollie shot a questioning glance Captain’s way. There were still pieces of what happened that hadn’t been filled in for him too.

Captain took over. “Jarvis turned up at my place, and he was rambling—”

“I did not ramble,” Jarvis interrupted. “I was worried. I wanted to know where you were, Ollie. I knew Pichard had returned home early from his holiday. His husband put a post on social media, and I had a horrible feeling it had something to do with you.”

“We were driving to the house,” Captain said. “I managed to get you on the phone, but then it went dead. When we turned up, they were still putting out the fire, but there was no sign of you. Then I spotted your phone.” Captain shook his head. “Jarvis called the police, and we started searching for you. I heard the scaffolding, then the thud.”

Rory tugged down his mask. “Wait a minute, rewind—”

“I swear to God,” Sebastian hissed. “If you keep removing that mask, I will duct-tape it to your face.”

“There was me thinking I might get some sympathy being laid up in a hospital bed.”

Sebastian shut his eyes. When he reopened them, they’d lost all their ice. “Please, Rory. I was worried about you. I still am worried about you. You have no idea how scared I was.”

Rory put the mask back over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Lie there, listen and breathe,” Sebastian pleaded. “That’s all you’ve got to do.”

Ollie waited until Rory and Sebastian were ready for him to continue. “When I was on the phone to Captain, Pichard came up behind me. He pushed a needle into my neck, took the phone from my hand, and dropped it to the ground.”

“Your neck?” Sebastian asked.

Ollie tugged the jacket down so they could see the purple mark. The doctor had been more concerned about the tiny dot on Ollie’s skin than his nose. He’d taken blood samples to test just in case.

Rory struggled up to see but kept one hand on the mask over his mouth.

“He made me walk up the apartment block. We stopped on the fourth floor, and he told me to step out onto the scaffolding. He told me about Teddy, how they knew each other. Teddy never started that fire. Pichard did, but he convinced Teddy to take the blame.” Ollie looked at Sebastian. “And Teddy never hurt Ryan; it was Pichard that gave him that pill. He said it would help with Ryan’s migraine, so Ryan took it. He told me everything and then said the needle was his plan B. He said no one would’ve been surprised at an ex-convict dying from experimenting with drugs, especially not one as messed up as me.”

“You’re not messed up,” Jarvis cut in.

“I am.” Ollie snorted softly. “But maybe not that much. I remembered the move you taught me, Captain. If anyone ever grabbed us from behind. We were to drop to our knees. It was a bit more difficult with the needle, but I got down. He stabbed it in the jacket.” Ollie touched the jacket, but the patch had dried while his nose was being assessed.

“We’ll need to take the jacket as evidence,” Harrison said. “All of your clothes, actually.”

Ollie nodded. “He rolled me over, punched me in the face.” He gestured to his taped-up nose. “Things got a little woozy after that. He shoved me towards the edge. I was trying to get him off me, then…then he was gone.”

He lowered his gaze, too afraid they’d see his lie. Part of it had been self-defence, but the other part…he’d just wanted Teddy to be free of his demon.

He’d wanted to make sure Pichard couldn’t hurt him again.

“Pichard and Teddy,” Sebastian murmured. “I had no idea they knew each other. I never saw them interact…”

“Pichard has treated him many times,” Jarvis replied. “He established control, made Teddy feel worthless, like he’d never be listened to, because not many people have tried to listen to him. They see him grunt and growl and distance themselves.”

“He felt hopeless,” Ollie whispered.

“But someone took the time to listen.” Jarvis smiled softly. “Someone became the catalyst to fight back. He just didn’t know how to do it. He didn’t know who to trust in there.”

“He trusted you.”

Jarvis nodded, but his smile faded. “Because you did. But maybe he shouldn’t have. You still got hurt. Pichard should never have got to you.”

Ollie turned to him. “If I’m not to blame for Rory getting hurt—”

“Which you’re not,” Rory said through his mask.

“Then you’re not to blame for this,” Ollie finished, gesturing to his face while keeping eye contact with Jarvis.

Harrison cleared his throat. “I think it’s time to drive to the station. Bag up your clothes. Take your statement.”

Ollie nodded glumly. “What about Teddy?”

“Teddy is already there,” Harrison said. “He’s been there all night with detectives.”

“What?” Ollie asked, glancing at Jarvis.

Jarvis nodded. “He wrote everything out. It must’ve taken him weeks. He made an appointment with me this morning, and he looked scared out of his mind. I sat there, and I read it, and I looked into his eyes, and I knew it was true, every word. I took it straight to the police station, wouldn’t leave until they took it seriously. Then they picked him up from Hollybrook and took him to the station to go through it all.”

“Last I heard, he’s still there now,” Harrison mumbled, grabbing the radio receiver strapped to his shoulder. “They’ll probably keep him in a holding cell overnight so he can continue assisting the detectives first thing in the morning.”

“He has no idea any of this has happened,” Jarvis said. “He thinks Pichard is still on holiday. He thinks you’re safe.”

“I am safe,” Ollie said, then he looked at Harrison. “And now so is Teddy.”